


A Close Encounter

by SixthSeason



Category: Mafiatale - Fandom, Underfell - Fandom, Undertale
Genre: But he'd rather have Casey kill him instead, Gen, Near comeuppance, Sans wants to kill Dawson, Which they will don't you worry, misgendering cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 05:00:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16968144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixthSeason/pseuds/SixthSeason
Summary: Sans eyes went dark, and immediately, he closed his fist. A red glow enveloped the commissioner, and he choked out a breath as he found himself held in his magic. Just one move. One move and it’s done. He’s dead. Casey’s free. They wouldn’t have to deal with this motherfucker poisoning their lives. So why couldn’t he just do it?No.No, if anyone was going to do this asshole in, it had to be them. It had to be Casey.Takes place in chapter 27 of Don't Shoot the Messenger.





	A Close Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> A small fic in Don't Shoot the Messenger. Sans' POV. Content warning for misgendering.

**R** ain at this time of the year was hell. Too warm to be snow, but far too frigid to be remotely bearable. The cold made his joints creak and ache, and Sans found himself yearning for spring and summer even though winter had just started. Activity around their chapter had came to a snail’s pace after the Red Wave had been wiped out. Maybe the other groups were moving slowly due to this unbearable weather. He gave a snort, reaching into his lapel and pulling out a cigar. He took a drag on it, blowing out the smoke which was quickly whisked away by the frigid breeze. The sound of a throat clearing sharply behind him made him turn around, eye sockets going wide in recognition. 

There he stood, in all his condescending glory with an “I’m-better- than- you-in-every-aspect of life” look that made you want to punch him square in the face before his mouth even opened. The police commissioner. Casey’s Uncle.

Sans soul flared up in his chest, air crackling around him violently. He could barely keep a low growl from building in the back of his throat. This was the man who had been causing his friend so much pain and misery. This was the man who pushed Casey to the point where they wanted to take their own life. This was the man who he wished he could tear into pieces without a second thought--

“You need to move.” He spat, a disdainful look on his face.

Slowly, Sans turned toward him, taking the cigar from between his teeth and he stared down at him. “why.” Just one word, but it was laced with such hatred and vitriol. 

“You’re making the residents uncomfortable.”

“really. why’s that?”

“Because you’re a monster.”

At that, the hand holding the cigar dropped to his side, and he gave the nastiest glower at the commissioner. He didn’t elaborate, nor give a good reason. That was all he said, as if that was enough to explain why he had to move, and how it tied in with being a monster. The commissioner sighed irritably when Sans did not comply right away.

“Bullheaded--” He muttered before clearing his throat again. “Do you understand? You need to get out of this area.”

“an’ what if I don’t feel like it?”

He paused, looking up at the enormous skeleton. The commissioner laughed derisively. “Listen to yourself. Like a petulant child.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t ‘feel like it’. You  _ will _ because I told you to. Unless you’re keen on spending a night in prison, you  _ will _ leave the area. Now move.” He reached out to place a hand on Sans’ back, and he immediately recoiled before his fingers could land on his jacket.

“ **D o n ‘ t** **_f u c k i n g_ ** **t o u c h   m e.”**

The commissioner (wisely) withdrew his hand before motioning Sans to move. He walked down the street with the commissioner following behind him to ensure he was really going to vacate the area and not double back the moment he was out of sight. 

Sans kept his hands in his pockets, for both of their sakes. He was barely restraining himself as-is. Despite how much he wanted to grab the commissioner and beat him to a pulp in the nearest alley, or just snap his neck and be done with it, laying a finger on him would be a death sentence. 

He huffed irritably, reaching into his lapel to pull out his flask, taking a drink. Behind him, the commissioner made a disgusted noise.

“Not only a monster, but a drunk as well. Now you see why I have to get you off the streets?”

He looked over his shoulder at the commissioner, making hard eye contact before he took another drink. The commissioner looked unimpressed, shaking his head. “Shameful. No sense of discipline. You and my niece would get along swimmingly.”

At that, Sans stopped walking, turning to face him. “yer ‘niece’?”

The commissioner nodded. “Unfortunately so. Casey’s her name. Just as hardheaded and rebellious as you, my friend. Disobeying like she has the power to. Drinking because she can’t figure out a healthy way to deal with her---”

“shut the fuck up.” He interrupted, his voice pinched.  


“I beg your pardon?!” The commissioner snapped. “Who do you think you are, talking to me like---”

“i said: shut. the fuck. up.” Sans whirled on his heel, closing the distance between the two of them, and immediately, the commissioner backpedaled, arms flying up to cover his face.

“they.” 

“Wh-what?” His voice shook, and it was pathetic. Sans jabbed a finger into his chest.

“yer talkin’ about Casey, you say ‘they’. nothin’ else.”

He dropped his arms, eyes narrowing. “How do you know her---”

“ **W h a t   t h e   f u c k   d i d   I   j u s t  s a y  ?”**

Sans eyes went dark, and immediately, he closed his fist. A red glow enveloped the commissioner, and he choked out a breath as he found himself held in his magic. Just one move. One move and it’s done. He’s dead. Casey’s free. They wouldn’t have to deal with this motherfucker poisoning their lives. So why couldn’t he just do it?

No.

No, if anyone was going to do this asshole in, it had to be them. It had to be Casey. They deserved their peace, and they would be the ones to wipe this shit stain of a human being out. He dropped his hand and the commissioner practically collapsed, hands clutching at his chest as he scrambled on the wet sidewalk, hyperventilating. 

“Wh-wh--what  _ are  _ you?!” He panted, voice shaking.

He didn’t even spare him a glance back before he teleported away.

**Author's Note:**

> Casey's Uncle will die soon. And it will be Casey who kills him. Makes my heart fuzzy that he's finally getting what's coming to him.


End file.
